Control and Loss Thereof
by gschelt
Summary: Cameron/Thirteen. What's meant to help Thirteen only pushes her away, and after walking out on Foreman she finds herself at Cameron's apartment. Femslash. Oneshot.


_**Author's Note:** I hit a roadblock with all the other writing I've been doing, so I sat and did this short simple Camteen in one sitting. Sorry it's not smuttier. (Also, first fic where either of the boyfriends has even been mentioned in any way.)_

* * *

"I don't need your fucking help!" she screamed at him, a strand of brown hair coming loose and falling across her livid eyes. But all he did was put his big brown hands on her shoulders and tried to get her to calm down.

Thirteen didn't know what she was expecting, or what she wanted, for that matter. All she knew was that it wasn't what he was doing now. She was lashing out like a frightened animal and all he was doing was trying to calm her down, trying to throw a leash around her, trying to tranquilize her.

"Just take a deep breath," Foreman said firmly, slowly, pushing down with his hands and frowning at her. It was like adding fuel to the flames.

"Don't," she lashed out, throwing his hands off her shoulder and stepping back. "Would you just stop?"

A notch appeared between his eyebrows as his frown deepened. "What? What the hell is wrong? I'm just trying to help."

She shook her head carelessly; tendrils of messy, sleepless hair tossed from side to side. Irrational anger etched on her eyes and mouth. "Stop trying to help me, Eric. You can't."

He frowned at her a bit more, his black eyes angry, defensive, and disbelieving.

"I don't want your fucking pity, okay?" she spat.

She expected Foreman to turn, to walk away to the bedroom and massage his temples. To give up. He did worse.

His expression hardened and he took a step forward, reaching out his rough hand to take hers in, to clamp on her shoulder, to stop her in her tracks and freeze her and talk some sense into her. To him it was compassion, fortitude, love. To her it was a threat.

She dodged the leash. She turned away, shaking her head in disgust. Grabbed her coat and scarf and slammed the door behind her.

Alone, he walked back to the cold bedroom and began to unbutton his shirt. His hurt and his pain were hard as stone. It was his nature.

* * *

"I didn't know where else to go," she mumbled, looking at the floor.

Cameron took in Thirteen's appearance, still caught off guard and still surprised by her choice of refuge; the brunette looked exhausted, jumpy, ashamed, with gaunt purple circles around her eyes.

"Come on in." She moved aside in the doorway, accommodating, kind because it was her nature not to ask any questions.

Thirteen entered wordlessly, dropped onto the couch silently, held her face in her hands with a sigh.

Cameron sat beside her. She leaned over and observed her guest for a moment, concern and curiosity flitting across her face.

"You want to talk about it?"

"No," Thirteen whispered. She shook her head quickly, eyes closed, trying to be indifferent. Cameron could see the lump forming in her throat.

"Okay."

Her hands never touched Thirteen's shoulders; they strayed up the smooth skin of her cheek, slow, understanding. Her eyes never attempted to lock and anchor her; they fluttered shut, lost in the loss of sense and control. The warm breath flickering from Cameron's lips to Thirteen's wasn't meant to fix anything. But somehow, as their mouths joined in tentative static, Thirteen felt fixed anyway.  


* * *

"Where's Chase?"

"Shhh." Cameron lifted her mouth from Thirteen's neck to tug the coat from Thirteen's shoulders. The scarf was tossed aside, limp, on the floor like the thought of men with the names Eric and Robert.

The breathing was heavy but the movement was light once Thirteen was disentangled from her coat. Cameron quietly dragged her body on top of Thirteen's, exhaling slowly on her skin. Thirteen captured Cameron's lower lip between her teeth and could barely remember grave hands on her shoulders.

Cameron didn't try to get inside Thirteen's head. She just snaked her arm around her waist, and the loss of control was utterly delicious.


End file.
